Heartache Tonight
by gf7
Summary: Scott knows that things are spinning a bit right now so he goes to talk to the one person who understands what it's like to have everything go upside down all the time.


TITLE: Heartache Tonight  
AUTHOR: Shawn Carter  
EMAIL: shawngf@earthlink.net  
WEBSITE: http://www.godfatherfic.batcave.net/index.html  
DISTRIBUTION: Sure. Just please ask me first.  
SUMMARY: Scott knows that things are spinning a bit right now so he goes to talk to the one person who understands what it's like to have everything go upside down all the time.  
PAIRINGS: S/J  
DISCLAIMER: Marvel owns, me no.  
NOTES: Directly follows Hold On.  
MUSICAL NOTES: The lyrics are Tim McGraw. The title is from the Eagles.  
  
****  
  
"It's your love  
It just does something to me  
It sends a shock right through me  
I can't get enough"  
  
****  
  
She was sleeping when he left her in bed. Her waves of red hair fell across the light blue and white sheets creating a virtual rainbow of explosive colours. And damn was she beautiful. He bent to kiss her, perhaps holding a moment too long. The feel of her soft skin beneath his lips was intoxicating though.  
  
"Every ounce of strength," he murmured, standing and moving away from her quickly. He defied his body's need to be near her and cursed his soul's desire to touch hers.  
  
"Scott," she murmured, almost sensually. He almost went to her but control won out.  
  
And after all, wasn't that the story of his life? Control, Cyclops. Control, Scott.  
  
He dressed swiftly, his fingers scraping along the length of his body as he accidentally scratched himself in his haste. He hissed a bit, not so much out of pain but rather habit. He glanced at his wife again and even allowed himself a smile when he noticed one of his tee-shirts lying at the foot of the bed.  
  
Sweet Jean. Good God, sweet Jean.  
  
He moved into the bathroom and ran his fingers under the water. He then cupped his palm and splashed it onto his face. His skin burned for no apparent reason. He sucked in several deep ragged breaths and then reached out for his day goggles.   
  
"Scott?" Jean queried, sleepily gazing up at her husband. He offered her a smile; desperately hoping that it was warm.  
  
"Go back to sleep, Jean..there's something I have to do."  
  
"Oh," she said, her worry clear. She reached out for his band but he held at arms' length. "You be safe."  
  
"I will," he replied, pulling on a Boston Red Sox baseball cap. He moved towards the door and had even touched the knob when she called him back to her.  
  
"I love you, Scott."  
  
He turned and looked at her. He cleared his throat and he struggled. Not because he didn't return the sentiment but because it simply wasn't within him anymore. Love? Perhaps. But the ability to reassure her with three little words? Not likely.  
  
Instead he crossed the room quickly and hugged her, holding onto her for dear life, taking in her scent and feel as if it might be the last time he would. He kissed her hair.  
  
And then, just as abruptly, he vaulted across the room and was out the door.  
  
****  
  
She watched him go, feeling her heart crack as he flew through the door. She couldn't touch his mind but his efforts at concealing his heart from her were in vain.  
  
He was hurting. He was bleeding.  
  
She sat up in the bed and wrapped the sheets around her. Reaching down, she picked the tee-shirt off the ground and pulled it on.  
  
Last night had been nice. They had just lay in each others' arms, no clothes between them . It had been like home.  
  
But that was last night. Today was about finding the right crack and breaking through. To touch her lover. Her husband. Her soulmate.  
  
Scott.  
  
****  
  
"Hello little brother," Scott whispered, kneeling down. He placed his head against the cool tombstone and let it rest there. "I know you're not here..but maybe..just for ten minutes..just like when we were kids..you can pretend to be, huh?"  
  
It was a nice day or at least it would be around noon. It was still pretty early so the air was still rather crisp. It felt good. It felt like something.  
  
Little old grandmothers and terribly serene younger looking men moved around him, all trying to get their mourning done so that they could home as soon as possible and forget the pain of loss. It wouldn't be hard. A couple of sodas, some hotdogs and then they could just veg in front of the TV. After all, the Jets were playing the Broncos. Big game, hey hey.  
  
Another day in paradise.  
  
"Wish you were here," Scott muttered, finally standing up. He pointed to his head. "You know I have that stupid Pink Floyd song in here. Used to be one of your favorites. Lorna says you'd play it all the time. I can imagine. You must have driven her nuts, bro."  
  
He paced a bit, at one point even turning his back on the tombstone so that he could look up into the sky and watch the birds sailing overhead. They were lazy and reckless and Scott wondered if maybe a couple of them weren't about to dive-bomb into a small group of mourners attending a burial service a few hundred yards away.  
  
That would be a damn travesty indeed.  
  
Indeed.  
  
"I don't know what's inside of me anymore, Alex," Scott said, sitting again. There was a tree right next to the tombstone; Jean has thought Alex would have liked it. Lorna had simply replied that he would have if he were actually dead.  
  
That was another matter altogether. One that he couldn't quite touch.   
  
"We Summers men don't seem to die, even when it might be better," Scott said softly. "Even when for ten minutes, it might stop the pain for someone. Anyone." Then he laughed, almost cruelly. "But we keep their love in spite of that, don't we?"  
  
And that was true. Alex had hurt Lorna so many times. He'd hurt Jean. They would both probably be better off with men who weren't quite so lost, both literally and figuratively.  
  
Wasn't gonna happen.  
  
"I never did find out why you tossed me out of a plane. I could have died that day..but it was you who ended up going in a plane accident." He shook his head. "That's not how it was supposed to be."  
  
He took his hat off and brushed his forearm across his eyes. Exhaustion hit him like a sledge-hammer to the gut. It wasn't so much that he was tired but he was worn down. Emotionally, he was running on empty.  
  
"Jean..she's worried..she thinks I'm cracking up..and maybe I am..I mean.." he lowered his voice to almost a whisper, "I have these dreams. Just about every night. It takes everything I've got not to wake up either screaming ofrswinging. But you know what it is, Alex? You know? It's darkness. Do you know that now, little brother?"  
  
He laughed, the sound bitter to even his own ears. He touched his chest and felt for his heart and for just a moment, he couldn't feel it beneath his palm. And then there it was. Just like clockwork.  
  
Still alive. Still kickin'.  
  
Still coal black inside.  
  
Oh God..the dreams.  
  
"You know, Alex, in my life, I've only truly loved one woman. I've had feelings for others but it's always been Jean in some way or another. So why do I feel like when she touches me, she's throwing a rope out for a dying swimmer? And why does make me want to run? God..what's wrong with me?"  
  
"Son?"  
  
Scott looked up abruptly and even stumbled a bit over his feet. "Uh..excuse me," he said, glancing up to look into the deep slate coloured eyes of a very old woman.  
  
She was carrying several brightly coloured flowers. "My son," she informed Scott, sliding over to the tombstone next to Alex's.  
  
"My brother," Scott murmured.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry, honey," the woman said, setting down the flowers. Then she smiled up at him and said very softly,"I don't mean to intrude but if I can offer you this..it's not a lot.."  
  
Scott stammered over his reply, his body on edge. Finally, he nodded slowly.  
  
"The only thing wrong with you is that what you feel in your heart and what you know in your head have nothing to do with each other." She looked down at the flowers and they wavered a bit. "Follow your heart and in it's time, you'll find your way through this." And then with that, she turned back to her sons' grave.  
  
Scott watched her for a moment and then finally said, "Thank you." He touched Alex's tombstone, running his fingers over the engraved letters. Leaning down to it he said, "I believe you're still alive and I hope you make your way home soon because I could use a brother, right now."  
  
And then with that, he rose and stepped away.  
  
*****  
  
"You look like you're hung over," Jean noted, smiling as her green haired friend entered the kitchen. Lorna groaned at her, even going so far as to try to throw a dirty look.  
  
It looked more pathetic than dirty.  
  
"How many beers did we have at the dance club?" Lorna asked.  
  
"Well I had two at the bar, you had three..I think we both had three more.."  
  
"Yep..I'm hung over," Lorna announced, dropping into a chair. "Where's the ragin' Cajun when you need hangover relief?"  
  
Jean laughed. "Remy and Rogue went to the beach. Something about a volleyball tournament. But I think I can help. Here, have some coffee."  
  
"Thanks," Lorna said, gratefully accepting the mug. "So how did you sleep?"  
  
"Nice," Jean said with a faint smile, recalling the sensations of his warm skin against hers. His body always radiated with energy so it was like sleeping with an omnipresent electric blanket. "You?"  
  
"Not so good.."  
  
"You have a dream about him?"  
  
Lorna looked away, almost embarrassed. "Yeah..I did.."  
  
"And?"  
  
"Jean..I know.."  
  
"You believe, right?"  
  
"With everything that is me."  
  
"Then..go with that."  
  
"Alright, I had a dream where he told me to hold on. He said hang on baby. I'm coming home soon. And then.." she blushed. "Well..you know.."  
  
Jean grinned,"Yeah...I know. Had those too."  
  
"But now you actually have Scott."  
  
"Some of the time," Jean replied, pouring sugar into her coffee. "Other times, he's still back in the heart of Apocalypse. I wonder how much of that darkness has swallowed him."  
  
"He needs therapy," Lorna suggested, putting her hand to her head.  
  
"Don't we all," Jean commented dryly. "But seriously, you going to be okay?"  
  
"Better now that..now that I'm home, I guess. I know he wouldn't want me sulking around and whining over him..but I just like to feel him."  
  
"We're not so different, you and I."  
  
"You're dreaming, Jean. After Scott was presumed dead..you were the model of composure...meanwhile I'm running off to Genosha with our arch-enemy for a power rush."  
  
"We don't see everything," Jean said softly.   
  
"Jean?" Lorna asked, suddenly concerned.  
  
Jean laughed and then went to the table and hugged her best friend. "Oh God am I glad to have you here. I missed you."  
  
"How sweet..you ladies got room for Bobby cuddles?" Bobby said, coming into the kitchen. He was grinning. As usual.  
  
Both women grabbed his quickly and wrestled him to the ground. "Say uncle," Jean said with a grin.  
  
"You may have me but you will never have my uncle!!" Bobby declared before he spun and tackled Jean. Lorna quickly jumped on him and the three of them collapsed into a pile of giggling limbs and torsos.  
  
And in the corner, unseen by all, he stood there. The leader of the X-Men. So very cold inside.  
  
//You'll never understand, my love. And I wouldn't bring you into that darkness even if you did.//  
  
****  
  
"You're coming to bed early," Jean noted, looking up from her magazine. She was already in bed, dressed per usual in his kick around clothes.   
  
"Or you are..figured one of these nights I'd be bailing you and Lorna out of jail," Scott teased.  
  
"Why Mr. Summers..that sounded suspiciously like a joke..no..couldn't be.."  
  
He punched her lightly in the arm and then pulled back the blankets and stretched out next to her. She put her back against his chest which prompted him to place his arms around her torso.  
  
"You want the light off, lover?" Jean asked, putting down the magazine.  
  
"Up to you, honey..if you're still reading.."  
  
"I'm fine," Jean said, reaching up to snap it off. Once it was dark, she pressed herself further against him, listening to the gentle sounds of breathing. Scott didn't snore, which was nice but his breathing was always downright rhythmic.  
  
"You know, Jean..right? I mean..you know?" he said abruptly, his voice catching a bit.  
  
She turned to him and stroked his cheek. "I know. I'll always know. And Scott?"  
  
"Yeah?" he said, looking up at her. She looked tired, oh so very tired.  
  
"I will always understand what is inside of you. I will always understand darkness. I was Dark Phoenix. I know black. Doesn't mean I love you less." She stroked his cheek, her green eyes seeming to push through his visor right to touch his. To touch his soul.  
  
He studied her for a moment, searching for the right reply. When words failed him, he simply looked up at her and the pressed his lips to hers in a crushing embrace.  
  
-FIN 


End file.
